Dear Helen: A St Valentine's Day Tale
by mchicken
Summary: Another in a continuing series of letter from Mike to his beloved Helen.


**This is another in a random series of letters penned by Mike to his late wife, under the umbrella title:** _ **Dear Helen.**_ **The standard disclaimers apply: don't own em, wish I could, make no money, hope it's good. (Sorry about that Hallmark moment, LOL)**

 **Dear Helen: A St. Valentine's Tale**

Mike sat at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee. It had been an interesting week at Bryant Street. Not because of murder and mayhem, those two topics were never in short supply. It was due to the imminent arrival of Valentine's Day. It amused Mike to watch his coworkers struggle to procure the perfect gift for the ladies in their lives.

Steve was particularly entertaining. Never with the same woman for an extended period, each year provided a new challenge for the young man. His angst over the gifts, and their eventual results, provided Mike weeks' worth of fodder for ribbing and tormenting his sometimes gullible partner.

At one time, he had also been a knight on the quest for the perfect gift. Roses and heart shaped boxes of chocolates, the standards, usually filled the bill. Helen was always grateful, even in the years when the only acknowledgement of the day was a hastily bought card on the way home from work. He'd never realized how lucky he was. She'd always let him off easy, even when he forgot the day completely.

The yellow legal table was opened to one of the few remaining blank pages. He had never been the love letter type, but the nearly full pad was a testament to his enduring devotion to his late wife. Tonight, his friends' Valentine's struggles inspired him to compose a message to his one and only. He picked up a pen and began to write.

 _Dear Helen,_

 _It's Valentine's Day, so of course my thoughts are of you, of us. I know I never managed to write anything worth sharing with you when you were here, but as I get older, well, let's just say I'm a little less embarrassed by expressing my emotions._

 _I remember exactly when I figured out I was in love with you. Gus and I were eating lunch and I guess I had a stupid grin on my face. It was the morning after our first date. He wouldn't let it go. He ribbed me that whole shift, but I didn't care. I never wanted that grin or the feeling that went along with it to go away, and you know what, it never did._

 _Our life together was never a picnic for you. Nights alone filled with worry. I knew you were strong, but I still marvel at how you held it all together. And you never complained, well maybe you did, but it doesn't really seem important anymore._

 _If I could have one wish, other than having you back in my arms, it would be to go back in time, knowing what I know now, and truly show you how much I cherished your love every single day._

 _I was sitting in the office the other day and Steve came in. It was early and I was looking through the newspaper, and something, can't even recall what it was, made me think of you. I must have had the same stupid grin I wore with Gus all those years ago on my face. I didn't try to hide it. He wanted to know what was up, but honestly I didn't want to share you with him right then._

 _It reminds me of another time I didn't want to share you, even with our own daughter. I think Jeannie was maybe 4 or 5. It was the first time we left her with a sitter. We'd just come home from your sister's wedding. A night filled with music and a little bit too much champagne. The sitter was gone and Jeannie was asleep, or so we thought. You looked beautiful in that blue dress, and you looked even more beautiful when you slipped it off. The look of passion in your eyes took my breath away. Of course that night, a little unexpected visitor cut our evening short. I think it was the last night we slept with the door unlocked. The look on your face when she asked what we were doing is one of my most precious memories. It still makes me laugh._

 _It was really hard when you left me, it was hard to remember things like that night and laugh. I was angry with everyone, even you. I felt betrayed. The anger is still there, but not with you, my love. I hate that we were cheated out of the opportunity to grow old together. Twenty years wasn't enough, I wanted a lifetime to show you how big my love was for you._

 _Now that I think back on our time together, I guess our love wasn't really about big things, other than the beautiful daughter created by our love, but little things. Quiet moments and goodbye kisses, holidays and happy birthdays. We filled those years with so many little expressions of love, it kind of added up to something pretty special._

Mike put down the pen, momentarily unable to continue. After he corralled his emotion, he wrote the final lines.

 _No matter how much time passes my darling, you are always with me, in my mind and in my heart._

 _Till we meet again – All my love, Mike._

Mike opened the flat brown bag sitting on the table and pulled out a heart shaped greeting card. He penned a quick sentiment, signed his name and sealed it in a red envelope with Helen's name on the outside and slipped it into the tablet.

He got up and turned out the light, heading to bed. _Goodnight my love, Happy Valentine's Day._


End file.
